Chapter 4
Chapter Four
THE STRANGER IS HERE
ORIE
Fuck, did he see me?
I already know the answer to the question. He did. I saw it in the way his eyes shifted when they met mine. Those eyes of his stunned me when our gazes connected, and I didn’t shadow jump fast enough.
Where my own eyes are dark—easier to disguise and stay hidden—his are light. Such a pale blue, they look like sunlight trapped beneath a layer of ice. While the color is cool, they exude only warmth.
And for a second there, fear.
How could I be so careless? How could I be so easily caught off guard? When Orian gets here, he’ll be quick to remind me how he’s never been caught before. I hadn’t either until this moment.
That moment has been replaying in my head since I came back to town. The question that has an answer still looping, begging for a different answer.
But the answer won’t change—it can’t. It’s already happened. I’ve already let him see me. Well, part of me. I’m not actually sure how much of me was visible from the cloak of shadows.
The bell to my store chimes, pulling me from my thoughts. “Hey, do you have anything to help with energy levels? And maybe something to boost creativity?”
That voice.
It’s the dangerously smooth and deep voice belonging to the artist. The voice of the man I’ve been stalking. The voice of the man who spotted me in the shadows.
Will he recognize me? Will he ask me why I’ve been following him?
Gods, I hope not. I don’t have an explanation. I’ll just deny it, make him doubt himself. We’ve never crossed paths, technically.
I turn around in what feels like slow motion, bringing my gaze up to face the mystery man who has been consuming my mind against my will. His steps are sure as he approaches the counter, a smile on his face.
As he gets closer, though, I see the subtle shift in his eyes, the way the corner of his lips twitches as he examines me. Is it recognition? Or does he find my appearance offensive?
“Yes, are you looking for essential oils, or are you looking for something more physical, like crystals?” I answer professionally, acting as I would with any customer.
But he isn’t just any customer.
He’s…I don’t even know. He’s something unanticipated, both in his presence and appearance. The way I feel is unexpected, unwanted, and all his fault.
I need Orian to get here, and fast, before I lose myself to these feelings swirling inside of me.
The man’s gaze stays on me as he rests his hands on the counter, leaning slightly toward me. “Essential oils. I don’t know much about crystals.”
I walk out from behind the desk, trying to ignore the urges inside me. Part of me wants to reach over and feel his skin, another wants to bury my nose in his neck and inhale.
Things I’ve never wanted to do to anyone.
Is he some sort of trap from hell? Is a former boss trying to get me to go back to the traditional shadow demon ways?
That isn’t me anymore, and I won’t let some man destroy everything I’ve worked so hard to create—the life I’ve built for myself.
“Over here I have essential oils in rollerball form, so they're easy and mess-free to apply.” I gesture toward a shelf, leading him. “The oils are diluted to make them safe for the skin.”
He nods along, fixing those golden glasses frames as his eyes scan the shelf. “That’s convenient.”
“For energy levels, you’ll probably want peppermint, lemon, or sweet orange,” I say, pulling one of each off the shelf. “For creativity, lemon and sweet orange would also be my recommendation. If you want something separate, clary sage is also good.”
When I turn to look at him, the last rollerball in hand, his attention isn’t on the shelf or the items I’ve handed him—he’s staring at me.
His irises shift from side to side, showing the layers of blue even more clearly from such a close distance. It takes everything in me to pry my gaze away and look at the shelf.
“They are seven dollars each, and if you keep the original packaging, I do refills for three dollars.” I straighten my shoulders and dare to look back at him.
This time, his eyes are on the items as he turns them over in his hands. “I’ll take them.”
I blink at him. “All four?”
Enthusiastic newbies often get a variety of whatever they’re buying to try, so I shouldn’t be shocked. I can’t help but wonder what’s driven him to purchase from my store. Is it just a coincidence, or was it intentional?
He’s got to be hiding something.
“Yep.” He gives me a grin, and I swear I can see hints of pink in his cheeks. A telltale sign that he’s hiding something.
Narrowing my gaze, I turn on my heel and head back toward the counter. My tail whips behind me, winning the fight against my will to keep it still.
An idea pops into my head—I can see if he’s trouble.
I’ll give him some complimentary amethyst, maybe even a bracelet so he’ll always have it on. That is, if he’s a bracelet-wearing kind of man. Based on the necklace around his neck, which has a key hanging against his much more muscular than expected chest, I’ll take my chances.
“Here, since you’re just getting into this stuff, let me give you a freebie—to help you get acquainted with the other side of it.” I detour on my way to the till and snatch a bracelet from a display. “An amethyst bracelet goes perfectly with those.”
Setting the rollerballs on the counter, he watches my hands as I approach. I wait for his response. Will he want it? Will he decline? Will he be offended that I’m trying to give him a bracelet?
Instead, he asks a question. “What is amethyst good for?”
“Well…” I certainly can’t tell him the crystals will expose any ill intent he harbors. A little reframing is required. “It provides spiritual protection, shields against negativity, and calms the mind.”
Huh, maybe I should put some amethyst under my pillow tonight. Then I might get a good night’s sleep.
With a smile, he takes it from me, instantly sliding it over his wrist. If he’s carrying any negative energy, or any ill intent toward the town or me, he should lose the drive for it soon enough. Or at least, some of the drive.
Lots of people think crystals don’t actually bring benefits, but they do—they’re just not magical fixes like people expect them to be. The effects happen over time, and can be weak if it’s a poor-quality crystal.
Ringing up his total, I tell him, “Okay, so for the four of those, your total comes to $30.25.”
He pulls out his wallet, and at the sight of a card of some sort, I turn on the debit machine. As he pays, I pack the rollerballs into a little bag.
The machine beeps as it completes the transaction, and I hover my hand above my printer, place the receipt in the bag, then extend it toward him.
“Thank you for shopping at Tranquil.”
He takes it from me, our fingers grazing as he loops his through the handles.
The electricity I feel at the mere touch of his skin…I can’t let go of the bag fast enough. What the hell was that? And why is my heart beating so fast?
Before he can take a step away from the counter, I dare to ask, “What brings you to Harmony Glen?”
He fixes his glasses, a smile still gracing his lips. “I’m just an artist looking for his muse, and something here called to me.”
Narrowing my eyes, I scan him from head to foot. Covered in paint and plastered with a smile that just won’t leave, what he says sounds believable. But if that’s why he’s here, why can I sense him?
“I’m having an art show in two days in the town center. You should stop by.” Based on his chipper tone, my staring doesn’t seem to bother him.
He pulls a neatly folded flyer out of his back pocket, extending it to me.
Grudgingly, I snatch it from his hand, my tail flicking behind me.
An art show? Maybe, but only if I can drag Raya there and blame her for our attendance—which truly makes no sense, but he doesn’t know her, so he won’t know any better.
If I can convince her to leave the house, that is. I may have to settle for Arman, her wish-granting genie boyfriend. She’s my best friend, but of the two of them, he’s much more social. Besides, he’ll probably want to buy something for her.
Keeping my tone flat, I respond, not letting him know I’ve already decided on going. “We’ll see.”
He doesn’t push any further, but gives me a nod as he makes his way to the door. As he opens it to leave, he calls out, “I’m Carson, by the way.”
I don’t give him my name, just a nod of acknowledgement. The door closes as the man, Carson, exits. The air shifts, just as it did when he entered the room. Too many questions continue circling in my mind, all left unanswered.
The draw I feel to him surpasses just that of his damningly attractive exterior. Even as my mind tries to rationalize it, my soul has a different reasoning. Something running deeper than the suspicion. I’m just not quite sure what it is, or why I’m feeling it.
Quickly walking over to the shelf of bracelets, I scan the variety of crystals. All of these new-and-old feelings have been a distraction. I need grounding, among other things.
Picking up a few bracelets, I slide on an amethyst one, along with a few others. Black tourmaline for grounding, and a fluorite one for some focus. Whatever help I can get while I wait for Orian, I’ll take.
My mind can’t stop going over the same questions, the same feelings. Why do I feel Carson’s presence? It’s unlike any other time I’ve tracked and felt someone’s presence. Those were less constant, less overwhelming.
This goes against my will.
It’s compelled me to make choices I wouldn’t normally. Like, why did I stalk him through the shadows as he ventured into the conservation area?
I almost got myself caught, too. Clearly, I’m a bit rusty. I’m not sure what I would’ve done if he had spotted me lurking in the shadows.
He would’ve commented if he had seen me, surely. I mean, wouldn’t he press someone he thought was watching him?
I can’t worry about that right now. I have to focus on controlling these feelings…whatever they are. His presence threatens to drive me off the edge.
And it’s fucking irritating.